


After Dawn

by Nixxi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Flash Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixxi/pseuds/Nixxi
Summary: The spatula he was holding clatters into the sink. He grips the edge of the counter, head bowed, as a sob escapes him, like a wild, starving animal bursting from a cage.Noct is gone.Noct is never coming back.The pain of knowing that is so great, he’s barely aware of the bedroom door sliding open, and of Gladio’s bare feet padding across the peeling linoleum toward him.After Noct's death, Ignis really needs a hug. Fortunately, Gladio is there. REPOST.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 16
Kudos: 84





	After Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a prompt in early 2018. I couldn't decide whether to tag it as platonic or shippy, so I did both. Either way you interpret this is legit!

Heat the skillet. Add butter.

Scrub the potatoes. Slice them.

Toss them in the butter. Let fry.

These are rote actions, steps in one of the dozens of recipes Ignis knows by heart. The cutting motions he makes with the knife are almost mechanical; the sizzle of potato frying in the pan is like white noise, quieting the mental anguish that hasn’t allowed him a moment’s peace in nearly three days. This is what he needs this morning.

The mundane.

The familiar.

A routine to take his mind off his dry, aching eyeballs, and the irritated, paper-thin skin around them. To distract him from the hole in his heart. Getting breakfast ready in this caravan takes him back to the days when things were good. When it was just the four of them on the road, and Ignis’s life had a purpose. It makes him feel useful. Needed. When he’s occupying himself with doing things for Gladio and Prompto, he stops thinking about—

About—

The spatula he was holding clatters into the sink. He grips the edge of the counter, head bowed, as a sob escapes him, like a wild, starving animal bursting from a cage. 

Noct is gone. 

Noct is never coming back. 

The pain of knowing that is so great, he’s barely aware of the bedroom door sliding open, and of Gladio’s bare feet padding across the peeling linoleum toward him.

“Come here, Iggy.” Gladio’s arms go around him, turning Ignis to cry against his broad chest. Evidently, he didn’t bother to put on a shirt after getting out of bed. The skin under Ignis’s cheek is warm and soft, and Gladio smells like the cheap shower gel they found in the caravan bathroom. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Ignis sags into his arms, and Gladio hushes him, his hand rubbing a lazy circle on Ignis’s back. Being held doesn’t take the pain away, but it makes him feel less alone. Gladio hasn’t cried—not since that night they sat together around the campfire for the last time—but he understands. Ignis can hear it in the rough edge of his voice, every time he speaks. Can feel it in the arms looped around him, holding him fast, like Ignis is the only thing grounding him in a world they no longer recognize.

They remain in each other’s embrace until Ignis’s tears turn to sniffles, and his shuddering breaths even out into a normal cadence. Only then do they part, though reluctantly so. Gladio’s hand comes up to cup Ignis’s cheek, his thumb wiping at the moisture under his eye.

“You all right?” he murmurs.

Ignis nods, his cheeks warm from Gladio’s concern, and turns back to the stove. The kitchenette smells like burnt potatoes. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he moves the skillet off the burner. “Yes. Thank you.”

There’s a moment of silence before Gladio speaks again. “You don’t have to be strong for me. Cry all you want, Iggy,” he says. He places his hand on Ignis’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here.”


End file.
